


Revelation 13:13

by chozencaptain



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: AU, Animalistic Behavior, Dark Red, Demon!Red, F/M, OOC, vulgarity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 11:30:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7047871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chozencaptain/pseuds/chozencaptain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The devil isn't dressed in a red cape and pointy horns. But he might just wear a fedora. </p>
<p>demon!red has turned himself into the FBI and insists on talking only with profiler Agent Elizabeth Keen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Revelation 13:13

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Princess Potter's "Protection" on HPFF, demon!john gifs from the Sherlock fandom and Denzel Washington's 1998 film "Fallen." 
> 
> I do not own The Blacklist or it's characters.
> 
> Demon!Red pic: chozencaptain.tumblr.com/post/145239806451/demonred-for-the-revelation-1313-fanfic-on

An impeccably well-dressed man strode jauntily into the FBI Department of Justice building.

“Hello all!” He called out loudly. People turned to look at him like he was odd. They didn’t yet know they should be looking at him with fear in their eyes. He sauntered up to the reception security officer.

“Shaniqua! If you could let ol’ Coop know that I’m here that would be great.”

“My name is Agent Sarah Osbourne sir,” admirably keeping the irritation out of her voice. “Do you have an appointment with Assistant Director Harold Cooper?” As she looked at him he saw the look settle unto her features. Humans could always tell something was amiss about him — even when he hid his demon eyes. They would debate internally of why they suddenly felt so uneasy and sense a desperate instinct to get as far away from him as possible.

Instead of his full black, sclera less demon eyes he had altered his appearance to make his eyes look like human ones. The color of the iris and his pupil were one and the same. The white parts of his eyes made his eyes look even darker. To humans this was their first warning. For if they saw fully black eyes they would know. Know that they were in the presence of evil.

“Lord no! Tell him it’s Raymond Reddington.” He spun around leaning back against the kiosk desk. His elbows bent to support him and his fingers dangling. He waited for only a moment before announcing the tediousness.

“Dear god your protocols are slow. I should’ve brought torches of fire or something.” He looked about the building. “Ooh!” He jumped off the kiosk and made his way toward the FBI seal in the middle of the floor. “This should be nice and dramatic!” He knelt directly on the seal. As the alarms blared he put his hands behind his head. He laughed as he heard the rifles cock and aim. “This is gunna be a gas.”

\-------

Men with guns secured him to a chair handcuffing his ankles and wrists. He sighed exasperatedly. As if any of this could really hold him. Eyeing the men he recognized one of the agents.

“Donald! I should’ve realized you had a fetish for handcuffs.”

They shot a microchip into his arm. He didn’t flinch. He looked up at the officer who had injected him who was looking shocked. “Oh right.” He flashed a sharp smile. “Ouch.” He let his eyes become fully black. All trace of white gone. The clear inhumanness of his regard was terrifying. The agent leapt backwards. The officers quickly backed out of the box. But Agent Donald Ressler remained standing before him with his hand resting on his hostler. Red saw the adjustment of a surveillance camera focusing on him.

“Coop is that you? Get down here you delectable chocolate covered caramel! Join the party! I do hope you’ve changed that awful cologne you wear. I don’t know how Charlene manages it poor thing.”

“Let’s talk about why you’re here.” Harold Cooper’s voice spoke over the comm.

“Already? Don’t I get a welcome fruit basket or something? That starfruit is misnamed isn’t it? It just doesn’t have that lovely magical deliciousness you except. It tastes more like something that isn’t quite ripe. But I’d eat a pomegranate any day — if you’ll forgive the irony.”

“Reddington —” Ressler snarled but Red cut him off.

“A girl is going to be kidnapped. I’ll tell you whose daughter she is and who wants her taken if you give me something in return.”

“And what would that be?” Cooper asked.

“A girl of my own.”

Red’s head slammed back as Ressler’s fist connected with his jaw.

“Ooh feisty! Relax Donald she’s one of your own. From here on out I speak only with Agent Elizabeth Keen.”

“Who the hell is Elizabeth Keen?” Ressler demanded.

Red’s smile was slow and twisted. She’s everything.

“How about that fruit basket Donald?”

\-------

Red looked up from his position of faking an obnoxious snore as a door opened and his caged box began to unfold. A young brunette woman paused at the door before striding toward him.  
He unconsciously leaned forward as if he was about to stand to greet her. His body caught on his restraints. He didn’t fight them instead he stilled and drank in the sight of her. She was beautiful. Her big blue eyes shone in the dim light locking onto his. Her pale skin and pink lips. Even her smell. With his heightened senses he could smell her across the room. He breathed deep before putting on his typical grin.

“Lizzie! Thank god you’re here it’s been so boring. You got rid of your highlights! It’s much better this way. Hey could you grab us a fruit basket? I think Donald ate the pomegranate. Petty man. I bet all that’s left is that awful star fruit. You don’t like star fruit do you?”

He knew she was taking in his appearance. She had never seen demon eyes in person before. The blackness wholly covered his eyes. There was no eye color or white of the eyes to be seen. Just black. Just darkness. As if the black pupil of his eye had been blown wide to overtake everything else.

He admired how she held herself when faced with such a despicable opponent. Her posture remained straight and firm as she stood before him. Her only sign of weakness was how she fidgeted with her palm. Her lips parted and as she spoke her voice sent shivers down his spine.

“Is that why I’m here? To discuss fruit?”

He tilted his head and suddenly the mood changed. He was still smiling but instead of being charmingly annoying his smile was dark and sickening.

His voice dropped low, husky and deep.

“I’ll tell you what you want to know if you show it to me.” His voice was quiet and dark.

“What?” Her brows furrowed.

“Your scar. I see how you stroke it. You rub it, caress it, finger it. Let me see it. Let me touch it.”

“Why would you want to do that?”

He just gazed at her waiting. Silence hung in the room as they looked at each other. She hesitated glancing over her shoulder. She clearly didn’t know what to do and was feeling extremely uncomfortable. His wrists were cuffed so his hands rested on his thighs. His fingers angled toward the space between his legs.

“Let me see it sweetheart and I’ll tell you about the girl.” His voice was low as he beckoned her to come near.

Hesitantly she moved toward him palm outstretched. The beautiful purple jagged scar came within his view. He stared at the sight before him — focused entirely on the blemish upon her skin. His chained hands made a motion for her to come closer. She paused briefly before letting her hand come within his reach. The tips of his fingers brushed softly against her scar. There was jolt — as if an electric current had run through them both at his light touch.

“Lizzie.” His voice was somehow different. It was gentle and filled emotion. The blackness of his eyes was suddenly gone revealing normal human eyes. Green eyes. For the briefest of seconds she thought she saw something in his eyes, some emotion, some explanation but with her next breath it was gone. He blinked and his eyes were once again completely black. He looked at her erotically.

He took hold of her hand between his legs. His fingers stroked up her palm, over her scar and under the sleeve of her shirt.

“Is a child really what you want?” She gasped and tried to pull away but his palm was still wrapped around her wrist. The pressure of his grip had become vice-like. His pointer finger rubbed quickly up and down her scar. Over and over. He stroked her scar, rubbed it, fingered it. She struggled. “Do you feel that Lizzie? If only these cuffs weren’t in the way I’d lick it for you. Run my tongue over it.” Agents descended upon the room but he had already released her and was laughing. Liz staggered backward.

Ressler surged forward grabbing him by the collar.

“You son of a bitch! Is that why you’re here? To toy with us?”

Red ignored him and looked over his shoulder at Liz. She was panting trying to catch her breath.

“Within the hour, Ranko Zamani will abduct the daughter of U.S. General Daniel Ryker.”

Ressler released him and moved away making a sound of disgust. Liz struggled to compose herself clutching her hand to her chest. “You expect me to believe you?”

“Belief is a silly construct. I don’t want you to believe what I say but to know. To know that when I tell you this girl will be taken from the safety of her parents and used as a tool to kill thousands: know it. And know that I don’t care one way or the other what happens.”

“What do you care about?” Liz let her hands fall back to her sides. Red smiled.

“Look at you. Abandoned by a father who was a career criminal, a mother who died of weakness and shame and yet here you are about to make a name for yourself. About to dance with the devil.” A seductive grin spread across his lips. “I’m going to make you famous Lizzie.”

They looked at each other for a moment — blue eyes meeting with solid black — before Liz turned to walk away.

“Lizzie if you don’t move quickly she’ll die.” He cocked his head to the side smiling. “Now wouldn’t that be fun?”


End file.
